Death: The Ultimate Powerball

When I was thinking of what to write about today, my two ideas were the massive Powerball lottery that has been big news in the States for the past two weeks, or the recent deaths of four talented individuals who left this mortal sphere a better place than they found it. Also I thought of the title above and thought, “If people are Googling for the two most searched topics of the past week, this title is going to pull a ton or readers to my blog!”

You’re probably be thinking, “What the hell is he talking about? Death is like winning the lottery? Idiot.” Those of you that know me well are hopefully thinking, “I want to see how he ties this all together.” You, I like. That first “Idiot” group, not so much.

Death has always been the bane of my existence. It’s not that I’ve been around it any more than anyone else, but I hate it. I would like very much to avoid it at allcosts. Yet at the same time, it fascinates me. What if it really is a portal to another plane of existence? Could I live a whole other life as a ghost? Is there a heaven and hell?

The Powerball lottery reached $1.5 billion American dollars this past week. I had the thought that if I won that fantastic sum I would use it to do every thing I could to make my body so healthy that I would live as long as is humanly possible and then I’d live some more. I’d quit my job and devote myself to daily workout routines and I’d hire two nutritionist/dietitians to guide my eating every day. I’d need two, so they could work in shifts, one from 7:00 a.m. until 3:00 pm and the second from 3:00 until I go to bed. I know myself. I need that kind of babysitting when it comes to what I eat. If this scenario ever does happen, shortly thereafter McDonald’s will remove McNuggets from their menu because of a sudden and inexplicable massive drop in sales of them.

The past two and a half weeks have reminded me that money can probably buy you a lot of things, but a longer life isn’t one of them. Lemmy, Bowie, Rickman, Dan Haggerty, and Celine Dion’s husband were all men who had done well financially in life but that didn’t buy them any more time. So I got to thinking, if Grizzly Adams, Snape, and Ziggy Stardust can’t dodge the Grim Reaper, I probably can’t either.

You know how financial planners help you plan out how you’re going to have money to live on after you retire? I’ve decided to plan how I’m going to live after I die. I figure that if I create a kind of to-do list for the afterlife, it will seem less scary, and I’ll be more prepared than those that don’t think of these things. That’s why so many ghosts have a surprised look on their faces.

I’m going to do something now that I’ve never done. A “To be continued.” Come back tomorrow for my afterlife To-do list. I’m already 600 words in here with no logical end in sight, so, if I live until tomorrow, I’ll have a funny list of things I plan to do after I die. Boy, wouldn’t it be the most ironic thing ever if I died and never got to make that list? And this would turn out to be the last thing I wrote online? Talk about a powerful metaphor! I’m tempted to continue living but not write anything just so the two of you that actually think, “I’ll make a point to look for #ThePhilFactor tomorrow,” think that I really did die.

Your list will be funny, Phil. Mine has me wistful and yearning. Oh, wouldn’t it be so nice? Yet isn’t it funny my highest-priority items in my bodyless afterlife are pleasures which would require my body?